Bride of the Wild

by Carré White

  “Only one, Pa. Silas and I are together. I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

  “Micah.”

  Something strange flitted in my belly. “Micah?”

  “I’ve got eyes. I know he’s sweet on you; he said as much. He’d put up with you, even your sass. He’s smitten, all right.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Nope. It’s a fact.”

  “Well, I’m terribly sorry for him then, because I’m going to marry Silas.”

  He scratched the side of his mouth. “That remains to be seen. I’m hoping you’ll open your eyes on this little trip. A person’s true character is revealed in times of hardship and crisis. You’ll learn a thing or two about Silas and Micah, I suspect. I bet you’ll be whistling a new tune by the time you come back.”

  “You don’t like Silas.”

  “I do, but I’m not sure he’s the right man for you, honey. He’d keep you in finery, and he’d be able to buy you whatever you wanted, but I’m not certain he’s capable of loving anything but himself.”

  Why did he have to ruin the morning for me? “I don’t want to argue, Pa. I appreciate your point of view, but I have to decide things for myself.”

  “Indeed you do.”

  “I’m not sure what Micah Blaylock can offer a woman. I have to be sensible about this. What sort of home would I have with him? I’m not partial to sod houses and starving half the year because there isn’t enough money to buy food. He’s a trapper or a wagon master or a scout. He wouldn’t even be home very often. He’d be in the woods somewhere or on a trail miles away. I’d be living by myself.”

  “You have given this some thought. Those are valid points. You’ll have to discuss this with him, honey. You need to tell him what you need.”

  “But Silas can provide a lovely home and furnishings and all the things I’ve grown accustomed to. I’d love a little farmhouse and some land. I don’t want to be trapped in the mountains far from church or family. I need to be where people are. The life of isolation isn’t for me.”

  “And yet here you are. You’re in the heart of the Rocky Mountains, far from civilization, and you’re happy, right?”

  “I love it here.” I gazed at fields of yellow sunflower weeds. “It’s harsh and wild, but I love it. Even when we’re stuck under four feet of snow, I love it. Nothing can match the blueness of that sky, Pa. The clouds are as white as bleached cotton and the streams as clear as spring water. It’s all I could ask for in a home.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I agree completely.”

  “I love Fern Valley. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

  He nodded pragmatically. “Then whoever you choose needs to love it as much as you do.”

  I smiled. “And Silas does.” I thought I heard him groan, but I ignored that. “We’re almost there.” The rooflines of the buildings along Main Street came into view. “I’ll be terribly upset, if they left without me.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  Pa directed the wagon towards a rutted road, which turned into a thin lane and then town. People had gathered before the hotel, men dressed in mountain gear, and I sent out a silent prayer of thank you. They had not left without me. The group was larger than I expected, but this would be to our benefit. Silas and Micah stood on the boardwalk, although each man had dressed vastly different. Silas wore trousers and a frock coat and vest, while Micah donned frilled buckskin pants and a jacket, his hat lined with fur. He carried a rifle in his hand, while two revolvers graced each hip. A heavy-looking pack slung around his shoulders and draped down his back.

  He glanced in my direction smiling, while Silas spoke with Butch Cashman, who dressed similar to Micah. The men had gathered for last minute instructions. We would be taken to the edge of the forest, where the body of the miner had been discovered. Then we would walk from there, hiking towards Gordon Ridge, where the bears kept their den, although no one knew this for certain.

  “Give your old man a hug,” said pa. “I’m gonna miss you, honey, but I know you’ll have quite the adventure.”

  “Thank you, Pa. Thank you for letting me go.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, inhaling his musky scent. He needed a bath.

  “You stick closely to Micah. He’ll take good care of you.”

  “You mean Silas.” I hated that he thought so little of my beau, but I would ignore it. I felt certain Silas and I would grow closer on this trip. We would have hours together to talk and possibly more in the evening by the campfire, if we stayed the night in the woods.

  “Let’s go, gentlemen,” said the sheriff. “And lady.” He nodded towards me. “Pile in a wagon. We’ll be driven past the Goldman farm, and then we’re on foot the rest of the way.”

  People came out to see us off, and I spied Mrs. Clarissa Faris and her friend, Jane. Susan Hefferman stood with them. What irritated me the most in that moment was Clarissa wrapping her arms around Silas’s neck and hugging him. The embrace lasted a smidgeon too long, as he held her firmly. I heard her say, “I shall pray for you while you’re gone. I do hope you return safe and sound to us. These next few hours will be rather harrowing. I know I’ll be beside myself with worry.”

  “Don’t make yourself uneasy,” he said.

  Micah strode towards me, his expression resolute. “We’re riding together.”

  He hadn’t asked in the least, only barked out the order, but I was far too distressed to argue with him. Out of the corner of my eye, Jane now hugged Silas. A bevy of cloying females surrounded him, as did his sister, Susan, who hugged him as well. His mother appeared then, hugging him. As if the first embrace hadn’t been enough, Clarissa boldly snaked her arms around his neck yet again, uttering, “We wish you well, Silas. You must return hearty and hale.”

  Stepping onto the back of the wagon, where several men had already taken up spaces, Micah joined me, settling in rather closely. I stared unhappily at the spectacle, realizing my beau had not even said hello to me yet. Once we were on the trail, we would have many opportunities to talk, which was some consolation. His family wanted to bid him goodbye, treating it as if he were going on a five-month voyage. Susan even had tears in her eyes.

  Pa came up to the side of the wagon, his gaze skimming over Micah and then me. “You two look comfortable. You take good care of my daughter, Micah. I know you’re someone I can count on.”

  “I appreciate your faith in me, sir.”

  The bond that had formed between my father and Micah was astonishing. They hadn’t even known one another very long. “Aren’t you going to wish us luck?”

  “I am. You’re in capable hands. I’ve taught you well, Saffron. You’ll come out of this a stronger, more resilient person. There’s nothing like spending time in nature to clear the mind and set things right. It’s an opportunity to connect with the earth in the way God intended. I’ve taught you how to defend yourself, but the rest will be God’s will. Whatever challenges He throws at you are for a very good reason, my dear. Each circumstance will build your character. I look forward to seeing you again, because I know you’ll be a changed woman.”

  I had no idea how to respond to that. “Um … yes, Pa.” One of the wagons had begun to move, pulling into the road. “This is it.” Excitement raced through me. The adventure was about to begin. The unknown beckoned, and none of us knew what would happen, nor could we control the outcome. “I love you, Pa.”

  “I love you too, honey.” He grasped my hand, squeezing my fingers. “Remember the golden rule. Keep your weapon nearby, listen for danger, and don’t go wandering off by yourself. You’re liable to get killed that way.” He glanced at Micah. “You too, son. Take care of my daughter.”

  “She’s my only priority.”

  Pa smiled, saying nothing, as our wagon began to move.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Although the morning air felt brisk, I had begun to sweat, burdened by a long-sleeved calico dress with a thicker chemise and stockings beneath. As the elevation increa
sed, it would become colder, and, if we had to sleep outdoors tonight, then I would pass the hours in relative comfort. My feet sweat too, the boots fur lined for winter.

  I traveled in one of three wagons, with Micah and Bryce Thompson. Wesley Fields sat with the driver. Our provisions took up the rest of the space. The wagon ahead of us held the sheriff, his deputy and an assortment of backpacks and bundles. Silas and Butch Cashman were behind us. None of the drivers would join the hunt. I, being the only woman, felt rather protected by this group of eager, adept men, who sported a multitude of weapons.

  They had begun to sing, the words of “America My Home” filling the air, while the wagon beneath me jerked and shuddered, the wheels rolling over a bumpy road. We would drive through the eastern portion of Fern Valley, past cornfields and barley, towards the Goldman farm, where we would then have to walk. Horses were not practical, as the terrain was too steep.

  Having little room, I sat close to Micah, although I did not mind this. The words he had uttered to my father drifted through my mind … “She’s my only priority …” I cast him furtive glances, while we trundled along, admiring the curve of his chin beneath a wide-brimmed hat. He hadn’t shaved since his visit to the barbershop, a darkish beard emerging along the jawline and cheeks. It puzzled me that he wasn’t singing with the rest of the men, but he seemed to go against the grain. I got the impression he was a bit of a loner. Being new to town and a relative stranger, he would have to form relationships with the people of Fern Valley, yet that would only happen if he stayed in the area.

  “What are you thinking?” he murmured.

  “That … that … nothing really.” He couldn’t know I had been ruminating about him.

  “What?” He grinned slightly, shifting behind me, his legs stretched out before him.

  “Nothing.”

  “It was something.”

  “Have you decided what you’ll do? Are you going to stay here? I know you said you needed a job, but you’re not seriously considering working at our farm, are you?”

  “Only if you want me to.”

  “This has nothing to do with me, Micah.” He had a habit of saying things that left me flustered.

  “It has everything to do with you.”

  Worried we had been overheard, I glanced at the other men, but they continued to sing, their gazes fixed in other directions. We neared the Goldman farm, because a series of buildings came into view.

  “Pa would hire you. He seems fond of you. I’m not sure what you’ve done to win him over, but … ” I shrugged, not knowing what else to say, but adding, “I’ll not live there for long, you know. I’m going to marry Silas soon.” I glanced at him to gauge his reaction, seeing nothing unusual other than his Adam’s apple moving, as he swallowed.

  He remained quiet after that, but I sensed his displeasure, because his shoulders had stiffened. When our driver stopped, bringing the wagon alongside another, I waved to Silas, who grinned in my direction. He jumped from the conveyance, bounding over to me.

  “My dear.” He flung open the back, reaching for me. “Are you ready for adventure?”

  “I am.” I adored being in his arms, although the contact lasted no more than a few seconds. “I just need to get my things.”

  “So do I.” He left then to speak to the sheriff, who stood in conversation with several men. I had wanted to speak to him, but now wasn’t the time.

  The Goldman farm butted up against a breathtaking wilderness of Douglas-firs and ponderosa pines. A small path waited nearby, where we would enter and follow whatever markings could be found. I draped the bag around my shoulders, gripping the rifle firmly, while Bryce Thompson affixed a backpack, staring at me.

  “Are you ready for this, Miss Fossett?”

  I lifted my chin. “I am.”

  “Fond of the outdoors then, eh?” Amusement flickered in his eyes. He had married Leah Cavanaugh, who I knew from school. She had been one of the many people seeing us off at the hotel earlier.

  “I’m stunned Leah’s not here.”

  He laughed, “This is the last place on earth she’d want to be. Her idea of a Sunday walk is a stroll to the barn and back. When I told her you were joining us, she asked me to remember my manners and mind my language. I’ll try my best, but, if the going gets tough, please forgive me for what I might say or do.”

  I liked Bryce, having known him most of my life. “I forgive you in advance. I doubt this will be all that troublesome, though. We’re likely to find the bear already dead. I don’t imagine infected animals live that long.”

  “Yes, but what if it passed on the disease? That’s why we have to find the den and kill them all.”

  Micah had overheard every word of this conversation, while adjusting a heavy-looking backpack. A bedroll hung from it, with a horn filled with water slung beneath his arm. He looked every inch the mountain man, dressed in frilly buckskins and a fur hat, but he sweat profusely, his forehead beaded with tiny droplets.

  “What say you, Mr. Blaylock?” asked Bryce. “You look like you mean business. I’ve heard you’ve done some trapping.”

  “I have, but beaver is hard to find now. It’s like what’s happening to the bison. I predict they’ll be hunted to extinction within a decade or less.”

  “Indeed.” Bryce looked grim. “Their robes, humps, and tongue are shipped east by trading companies. They’re in demand.”

  “Until there are no more.”

  “It’s the way of it, I suppose.” Bryce removed his hat, running fingers through his hair. “Did you work for the Rocky Mountain Fur Company?”

  “No, I was a free trapper.”

  “I see.”

  Micah’s worn-looking boots extended to his knees. “I usually prefer to do it my way, but I’ve trapped with others before. I’m not adverse to people. I just like to keep what I earn.”

  “Smart man. I work at the livery, but I plan to have my own business one of these days. Old man Carter won’t live forever. I’m hoping he’ll sell his share to me. His wife and children are long gone, and he has no heirs to speak of. The Heffermans own the rest.” He grumbled, “They own most of everything in town.”

  “So I’ve been told,” said Micah.

  He glanced at me, which I found odd, but I had nothing to add to this conversation. The Heffermans seemed to be loathed and respected, with a fair amount of resentment thrown in for good measure. The men had gathered up ahead, adjusting their packs. “We should go.” I wanted to hike with Silas, hoping to be able to converse with him all day. This desire propelled me forward, my boots crunching over rocks and twigs.

  “Is everybody ready?” asked Sheriff Palmer. “This shouldn’t take long. I’m glad you brought extra provisions, but in all likelihood, we won’t need ‘em. It should be a fine afternoon men,” he glanced at me, “and ladies.”

  Silas grinned. “Lead on, sir. I’m eager to get on the trail.” He gripped a rifle, his expression exuberant. He glanced at me. “You look fetching, my dear. I hope you can keep up. The walk shall be brisk.”

  “I’ll be fine.” A gust of wind blew a loose strand of hair into my face. “I’m ready.”

  Deputy Thomas approached Micah. “You’re our scout. Do you have the maps?”

  “I do, but I don’t need them at the moment. I know where this trail goes.”

  “Excellent.” He pointed. “Onward then. We’ll follow the markings. The blood will have dried by now, but we can still see it. We’re certain the bear came this way. It goes on for a half a mile, but we haven’t followed it further yet.”

  “Lead the way,” said Silas, who bounded on ahead, with the sheriff and Wesley Fields at his heels.

  Thinking that we would walk together, it dismayed me to be left behind so quickly, with Bryce and Micah on either side. It seemed they would be my escorts, but I longed to walk with Silas. Perhaps later in the day, we would have a moment alone.

  Sensing my disappointment, Micah said, “He’ll run out of energy soon enough. It’s
not a race, after all. Slow and steady serves its purpose. We’ll bring up the rear, which suits me just fine.”

  Heated through and through already, I cursed the layers of clothing. “Did we have to wear so much? It’s dreadfully uncomfortable.”

  “If we’re here overnight, you’ll be grateful.” Micah began to walk, and Bryce followed.

  I joined them. “I suppose.”

  “The higher we go, the cooler it will be,” said Bryce.

  We joined the men up ahead, although we were last in line, following a clear path through a wooded area. The group stopped some time later to examine a marking, finding dried blood.

  “This is where we found his arm,” said Deputy Thomas. “It’s been taken to the family for burial.” The person, who had been savaged, had been on his way home from mining near Clear Creek. “There will be more to come, folks. This should lead to the den.”

  From the eager looks on faces, the men were impatient to continue. Having only just started our hike, an air of vitality and excitement lingered. I sensed it keenly, because it mirrored the way I felt, wanting to partake in the hunt. Only Micah appeared staid, his expression tempered. He did not share our enthusiasm, but I would not guess why he behaved so, because I could not read his mind. Perhaps, he had been too often in these mountains and seen all there was to see. He had possibly exhausted himself on adventure, but I would not trouble myself over it.

  A short while later, we came to another marking, where a stitch of clothing had been left behind. “We haven’t followed it further,” said the sheriff. “Now we’re at things we haven’t seen yet, but I trust the trail will not run cold. Continue on.” He strode purposefully, with Silas at his heels.

  Micah eyed the clothing, bending to examine the torn fragment of what looked like material from either a coat or a pair of trousers. He moved the branch of a bush back and forth.